Sexy Billionaires

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Sexy Billionaires Page 3

by Carol Marinelli


  Tabitha filled her own glass from the bottle, but unlike Aiden accepted a hefty splash of soda from a passing waiter. ‘He has no idea, then?’

  Aiden shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. He tried to talk to me once—a big brother pep-talk would best describe it. You know the type: sort yourself out, grow up, what the hell’s your problem?’ He drained his glass in one gulp. ‘He actually came right out and asked if I was gay.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell him then? Would he have given you a hard time?’

  Aiden shook his head. ‘Zavier wouldn’t care about something like that. Despite the fact he practically wears a suit and tie to bed he’s pretty laid-back about that sort of thing.’

  ‘Then why not tell him?’

  ‘I figured it wouldn’t be fair on him. There’s no way I could tell my father, he’d have a coronary, and it would just be one more thing for Zavier to worry about. He carries the lot of us, you know.’

  Tabitha was intrigued and leant closer. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Zavier runs the business. Dad’s too sick now. I know he doesn’t look it, but he’s a walking time bomb—he needs heart surgery, but he’s too much of a risk for an anaesthetic. No surgeon would touch him, particularly with the name Chambers.’

  ‘But surely he can afford the best treatment?’

  Aiden gave a low laugh. ‘And the best lawyers. I’m no cardiac surgeon, but I can see where they’re coming from. He’s just too high-risk to even attempt surgery. And with his heart so weak that’s even more of a reason not to tell him about me. It’s better Zavier doesn’t know—better that no one does.’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t,’ Tabitha said soothingly. ‘So you’ve got nothing to worry about.’

  Still, as she took a sip, her eyes smarting as the liquor warmed its way down, she found her eyes instinctively combing the room, as if constantly drawn to the dark and foreboding man that utterly enthralled her.

  He’d only break your heart, she consoled herself. But what a delicious way to go!

  The party was getting louder now. People were dancing—kicking up their heels. Aiden swirled Tabitha around the dance floor a couple of times, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it and he was only too happy to get back to the table and his never-ending supply of alcohol.

  Tabitha was starting to wonder when they could reasonably make an exit to their hotel room upstairs. Her feet were killing her in the impossibly high sandals, and she thought her face might crack soon with the effort of smiling. There were also a couple of videos on the movie channel she wouldn’t mind watching while Aiden slept off his excesses. She had more than returned Aiden’s favour, and tomorrow she would tell him this had been the first and last time she would play the part of his girlfriend. Zavier’s snide comments had seriously hit a nerve; the whole thing was starting to get out of hand. She would join the family for breakfast, make all the right noises, and then that would be it. Aiden would have to find someone else to fool his family.

  Her hopes for a discreet exit were foiled, though, when Marjory descended with a grim-faced Zavier.

  ‘There you are, darlings. How come you’re not dancing?’

  Tabitha forced a bright smile. ‘Aiden’s feeling a bit tired.’

  ‘Well, that’s no reason for you not to be dancing.’ For an awful moment Tabitha thought Marjory was suggesting they grab their handbags and dance around them together! The reality was far worse. ‘Zavier, why don’t you take Tabitha for a dance?’

  She braced herself for rejection. Zavier Chambers didn’t look like the kind of man who did anything he didn’t want to, and after the way he had addressed her earlier she was dismally confident of one thing: dancing with a money-grabbing gold-digger wouldn’t be high on his list of priorities. Not that she wanted to dance; ten minutes alone with this man had truly terrified her.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  She looked up with a start, and as he offered his hand had no choice but to accept. Standing, she turned somewhat anxiously over to Aiden for some support, but he really was the worse for wear now.

  Zavier’s hand was hot and dry, closing over hers tightly. As he led her to the dance floor Tabitha had the strangest urge to make a bolt for it, to wrench her hand away and run to the safety of her hotel room. As if sensing her trepidation, he closed his hand more tightly on hers, only letting go when they were in the middle of the tightly packed dance floor.

  Slipping his hand around her slender waist, he rested it there. She could feel the heat through her flimsy dress. A couple dancing past bumped her, forcing her closer to him. Zavier gripped her more tightly, steadying her as she toppled slightly.

  ‘You’re having a terrible night, aren’t you?’ He had to stoop to meet her ear, and as he did he held her closer. His hot breath tickled her earlobes, and despite the heat of the room Tabitha broke out in goosebumps as she felt his hands tighten around the small of her back.

  ‘Of course I’m not. Everyone’s been charming,’ she lied, in what she hoped was a convincing voice.

  But Zavier begged to differ. ‘You’ve been sitting on your own most of the night, trying to pretend you don’t mind. I’ve been watching you.’

  That he’d noticed Tabitha found strangely touching; that he’d been watching her she found pleasantly disturbing. But she didn’t answer at first. His hands on her back were having the strangest effect. All she wanted to do was rest her head on his chest, to let the heavy beat of the music fill her, to lose herself in the moment.

  ‘So this is a sympathy dance?’

  ‘No, I don’t do anything out of sympathy.’

  She wanted so badly to believe him, wanted to believe it was her stunning good looks that had brought him over—hell, she’d even settle for her witty personality—but the facts spoke for themselves: Marjory had commandeered the whole thing. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was high and slightly breathless.

  ‘For what?’

  Dragging her eyes up, she was stunned to see the change in him; the icy stare had melted, replaced by the moist sheen of lust, but his dilated pupils in no way softened the intensity of his gaze. Running a tongue over her lips, she forced a reply, confused at the sudden shift in his demeanour. ‘For you being forced to dance with me.’

  He didn’t say anything at first; then he bent his head and she felt the brush of his face against her hair. All her senses seemed to be standing rigid to attention.

  ‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said huskily. ‘After all, it’s only a dance.’

  This was the man who thought she was a conniving gold-digger—the man who had blatantly told her he was suspicious of her motives. But he was also the man holding her now, making her feel more of a woman than she had ever felt in her life. Everything about him forced her senses into overdrive: the exotic heady scent of him, the expensive cut of his suit beneath her fingers, the quiet strength of the arms holding her, the scratch of his cheek against hers. She gave up fighting it then. Nestling against his chest, she swayed slowly against him, relaxed under his skilful touch. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply, every sense in her body attuned to the perfection of the moment.

  It wasn’t only a dance.

  To describe it as such was a travesty.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘LET’S get you upstairs.’ Aiden was slumped over the table but still managing to cling on to his half-empty glass. Shaking him on the shoulder, Tabitha whispered loudly in his ear. ‘Come on, Aiden. People are starting to look—you really ought to be in bed.’

  ‘Having trouble?’ She could hear the derisive tone in Zavier’s voice as he took in the situation.

  ‘We’re fine,’ Tabitha said through gritted teeth, unable to meet his eyes after the dance they had shared, confused at the response he had so easily evoked in her and determined not to let him see.

  ‘You don’t look it,’ he said knowingly.

  ‘Well, we are. Aiden and I are just about to head off upstairs to bed.’

  ‘Have you already called for a forklift or did you want
me to ring for you?’ His biting sarcasm only inflamed her taut nerves.

  ‘He’s just tired.’ Tabitha said defensively, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all Zavier.

  ‘Ah, that’s right; he’s had a busy week at the studio. And there I was assuming that, as per usual, Aiden’s the worse for wear. God, I’m such a cynic sometimes.’

  People were really staring now; she could see Jeremy Chambers starting to make his way across the room, a questioning look on his face. A drunken showdown with his father was the last thing Aiden needed—her too, come to that.

  Swallowing her pride, Tabitha bit back a smart reply. Jeremy was nearly upon them now, and she had no choice but to accept Zavier’s help if she wanted to avoid a scene.

  ‘I could use a hand,’ she admitted reluctantly.

  ‘A “please” would be nice.’

  She wasn’t that desperate! ‘Look, are you going to help or not?’

  He smiled then—a real smile, that for a fleeting moment lit up his face. ‘Okay, come on, let’s get him upstairs.’

  Which was easier said than done. They managed to get him out of the function room in a reasonably dignified fashion, but once they got to the lift Aiden slumped on his brother and proceeded to snore loudly.

  Tabitha willed the lift to move faster; Zavier’s close proximity in this confined space was not having the most calming effect on her. Still, it was just as well Zavier was there, Tabitha conceded, or she’d never have managed otherwise.

  Aiden steadfastly refused to wake up, let alone walk, and in the end Zavier had to resort to giving him a fireman’s lift—something he managed amazingly well, considering Aiden stood well over six feet. Tabitha retrieved the swipe card from Aiden’s top pocket, holding the door open as Zavier made his way in and deposited his younger brother unceremoniously on the bed.

  ‘Be sure to tell him how badly he behaved in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll tell him all right,’ Tabitha said, her annoyance with Aiden apparent in her voice. ‘And thanks for all your help getting him upstairs,’ she added grudgingly.

  ‘Don’t mention it. I’m just glad he had the foresight to book a room here or we’d be stuck in the back of a taxi now. As you probably gathered, it’s not the first time I’ve had to come to my hapless brother’s rescue. I’m sure it won’t be the last.’ He stared at her then, openly stared, until Tabitha was blushing to the tips of her painted toenails. ‘I would have thought he’d have toned things down a bit by now, though—the love of a good woman and all that.’

  ‘But I’m not good…’ The words slipped seductively from her mouth before she could stop them, and she saw the start in his eyes at her provocative statement. Stunned, confused at her own behaviour, Tabitha attempted to retrieve herself. ‘I mean from what you said to me at the reception…’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you have your good points.’

  Despite the fact they were occupying one of the Windsor’s most opulent suites, suddenly the room seemed incredibly small. There was something big going on here—more than just a gentle flirting. Everything about Zavier screamed danger. Every nerve in her tense body seemed to be on high alert, the fight or flight response triggered by his proximity overwhelming her, but there was nowhere to run and, even more disturbing, Tabitha wasn’t sure that she wanted to.

  She wanted badly to dazzle him with some witty response, to show she was completely in control, not remotely fazed by his imposing presence, but she wasn’t in control here—far from it. Zavier Chambers seemed to trigger a major physiological reaction in her just being in the same room.

  Void of any reply, Tabitha busied herself removing Aiden’s shoes. Pulling a thick blanket from the wardrobe, she covered his limp body.

  She was confident Zavier would go now, which would enable her to at least catch her breath again. After all, he had delivered Aiden safely—had done his brotherly duty. There was no reason for him to stay now—no logical one anyway.

  ‘I ought to put him on his side, in case he’s sick,’ Tabitha said, more to herself than in an attempt at small talk. Pushing her arms under Aiden, she knelt on the bed, pulling his back towards her.

  ‘Careful—you might hurt yourself.’ In an instant Zavier leant over to help her, his hand catching her arm as he attempted to render assistance. But the contact was too much for Tabitha’s already shot nerves and she pulled her arm back swiftly.

  His coolness only exacerbated her nervousness. She felt his eyes flicker over her exposed cleavage, and as if in response her nipples stiffened, protruding against the flimsy fabric. Even as she swallowed nervously she felt as if he was registering the tiny movement in her throat.

  ‘Tabitha…’ Aiden, slurring his words, struggled to sit up. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it now,’ Tabitha said gently. ‘Just try and sleep.’

  Aiden’s squinting eyes locked on her. ‘I mean it, Tab, I’m really sorry. I’ve been thinking,’ he slurred, resting back on the pillow, ‘I should just marry you. You know that? It would solve everything.’

  She felt more than saw Zavier stiffen, heard the tiniest hiss come from his lips, and knew that Zavier thought this was a proposal she had somehow engineered. Her own shock at Aiden’s suggestion for a moment put on hold, she attempted to quiet her friend. But it was too late. The words had escaped, seeping through the air like a vile vapour, compounding every last one of Zavier’s suspicions.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Tabitha attempted a light scold, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. ‘Why would you say such a thing?’

  All Aiden could manage was a small shrug before closing his eyes again, but Zavier wanted answers. Reaching over, he shook his brother, rattling him none too gently.

  ‘Come on, Aiden,’ he quipped, his light voice belying the muscle pounding in his cheek. ‘That’s no way to propose to a lady.’ She saw the tiny snarl as his lips formed around the words. ‘Finish what you’ve started.’

  ‘It would solve everything,’ Aiden mumbled. ‘Dad would see a marriage before he dies—’ he squinted at Tabitha, who stood mortified ‘—and your gambling debts would be taken care of, darling. I know how worried you…’ He never finished his sentence, instead choosing that moment to go into a deep and rather noisy sleep.

  ‘I can explain…’ Tabitha started. ‘It’s not how it seems.’

  Zavier flashed her a thin smile. ‘I’m sure it’s far worse.’

  ‘It isn’t. The gambling debts—’

  He halted her with one flick of his manicured hand, his gold watch glinting in the bedside light. ‘I don’t give a damn what trouble you’re in. You, Miss Reece, don’t concern me—not one iota. But understand this.’ His voice was menacing. ‘Stay away from my brother. Marry him and I’ll expose you for what you are—a cheap, conniving gold-digger. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I do,’ he hissed. Coming around the bed, he stood over her, stepping uninvited into her personal space, so close she could feel the scorn of his words on her cheek—so close, so vividly near, even the batting of his eyelids seemed to be happening in slow motion. ‘You think you’ve got it all worked out, don’t you? You think the Chambers family are going to be the answer to whatever mess you’ve got yourself into.’

  ‘I don’t.’ She was trying to defend herself, trying to form an argument, but his presence, his closeness, wasn’t just intimidating her now; it was overwhelming her, fogging her mind with dangerous images. The scent she had inhaled on the dance floor was stifling her now, conjuring recollections of their one dance, and her subconscious responded as it had when he held her. ‘I don’t,’ she said again, dragging her eyes up to meet his, trying to sound as if she meant it, trying to ignore the surge of adrenaline cascading through her body—the high alert of imminent impact.

  His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. Already he was wearing the dusky growth of a five o’clock shadow, and she imagined the scratch of his cheek on hers, the roughn
ess behind his kiss. Though she hated the venom of his attack, Tabitha was curiously excited, high on adrenaline and champagne and the heady cocktail of hormones his presence haplessly triggered.

  His hand moved up slowly and she stood frozen. Only the none too gentle sound of Aiden’s snoring broke the silence—only that and the pounding in her temples as he traced a finger along her white collarbone, exploring the hollows of her neck, his fingers brushing under her curls.

  And she waited.

  Waited for him to jerk her towards him, to expel the tension with the roughest of kisses. She licked her lips, her pink tongue bobbing out involuntarily, moistening her flesh in anticipation.

  ‘I might have known.’ In one harsh movement, one harsh sentence, reality invaded and his fingers flipped out the designer label on her dress. ‘Is that the going price for a date these days?’

  His words confused her. Struggling to understand his meaning, she stepped back, the distance giving her a chance to collect her thoughts as the contempt in his eyes flared.

  ‘I sign off Aiden’s credit cards,’ he explained nastily. ‘I should have worked it out earlier. Your outfit is the only tasteful thing about you.’

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘Oh, I’m going, and in the morning, Tabitha, so are you. As far from my family as humanely possible if you know what’s good for you.’

  Only when the door was safely closed, when only the heavy masculine scent of him remained, did Tabitha breathe again.

  Not trusting her legs to stand, she sat on the edge of the sofa, practically trembling just at the thought of him. He was vile, loathsome, full of his own self-importance—and yet… Never had a man made such an impact on her. Those few moments on the dance floor with him had tapped rivers of passion she hadn’t even realised existed. His eyes had seemed to tear through her, his mouth, his smell…

  And there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it! Even if she could stretch the boundaries of truth and imagine someone as completely stunning as Zavier Chambers ever in a million years being attracted to her, she was supposed to be his brother’s gold-digging girlfriend—with a gambling problem to boot! Completely out of bounds by anyone’s standards.

 

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